


Beneath the Whomping Willow

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, M/M, Remus is Bad at Feelings, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus tries to off himself, and nobody talks about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath the Whomping Willow

**Author's Note:**

> For real, guys, there's a major TW for Suicide Attempts, okay? Please don't read if you're triggered by that!

Sirius worries slightly, when Remus doesn’t show up for lunch.

“He’s probably just resting,” James dismisses when Sirius asks, buttering a roll with ease. “You know how he gets, before the full moon.” 

Sirius _does_ know how Remus gets. Tired, achy, weary. What Sirius doesn’t know is why James isn’t as worried as he is. 

“Doesn’t something seem off to you, though?” Sirius presses, looking down at his empty plate. He can’t eat like this, not when something feels far too off about Remus’ absence. 

“If you’re so worried, go see him.” James says at last, a sandwich halfway to his mouth. 

After a moment of consideration, Sirius stands. “I think I will.” 

He exits the Great Hall without eating anything, possibly for the first time in his six long years, and makes his way up to the Gryffindor Tower. 

The Common Room is buzzing dully with students, but Sirius moves swiftly between them without being noticed and starts up the stairs to their room. 

When he opens the door he does so quietly, not wanting to wake Remus if he truly had elected to take a nap rather than ear. Sirius never saw the werewolf as a napping sort, but there were more than a few secrets Remus kept from them all.

The curtains of Remus’ four-poster are drawn tightly, and Sirius is just about to turn and go when he hears an almost-barely-concealed sob from Remus’ bed. 

Sirius freezes rigidly, ice creeping down his spine. Remus doesn’t cry. Remus never cries, even when he confessed his wolf-like tendencies to his friends in Second Year. Remus doesn’t cry. 

Without a word he creeps forward, trying to shake off the terrible feeling swelling in his chest. Nothing’s wrong. Remus likely stubbed his toe, or realized that the full moon was a day closer than he thought. 

But, drawing back Remus’ curtains, he sees that it’s something far worse. 

Remus is curled into himself atop his sheets, his usually calm features contorted in tears and indescribable _fearworryhatefear._

He’s tugging the sleeves of his sweater to his knuckles when he catches sight of his friend, but Sirius sees the blood on the sheets and the jerky movements of Remus’ hands and it all fits together too well. 

Sirius isn’t sure what prompts him to do so but he hurriedly climbs onto Remus’ bed, tugging his arms forward and pushing back his sleeves. 

Long, messy cuts have been made across Reus’ wrists, bleeding steadily even as Sirius finds a neglected sheet and wraps it around one wrist, trying to staunch the bleeding with shaky hands. 

All while performing this feat, Remus fights him. 

He tries to pull away, using whatever strength he has left to fight against his friend’s desperate movements. 

“Let me go, you bastard, let me go,” Remus sobs, even as Sirius holds him tightly and absolutely _refuses_ to so as Remus is demanding. 

Eventually, after a long and desperate fight on both ends Remus falls unconscious and Sirius is left to hurriedly tie a pair of once-white sheets around his wrists and, nearly drenched in blood himself and shaken, carry an equally untamed Remus Lupin to the Hospital Wing. 

\----

Sirius refuses to leave Remus’ bedside, even when Madame Pomfrey tries to force him out. He stays even when she peels away the sheets and inspects Remus’ cuts, and thought Sirius can’t look he watches Remus’ unflinching face, his soft brown eyes closed, and Sirius wants to know how they all missed something as big as this. 

Two hours later James and Peter are allowed in, James holding a clean pile of clothes and looking sober. 

Nobody says anything for a while, Sirius not bothering with modesty as he changes into the clothes and seats himself in the chair besides Remus’ bed indefinitely. 

“How did this happen?” James breathes finally, pushing a hand through his hair anxiously. 

Sirius isn’t sure what to say. How _did_ this happen? How did Remus get so low, saw no way out other than this? 

“I wish I knew.” Sirius whispers after too long a pause, shaking his head and feeling extremely tired. 

\----

Sirius is barred from the Hospital Wing fourteen hours later by Madame Pomfrey, long after James and Peter had shuffled off to bed. She kicks him out on his arse and tells him not to come back unless he’s critically injured. 

He’s exhausted but he can’t sleep, even after he braves the stairs to the dorm room. 

Remus’ sheets have been changed, but he can’t rid himself of the vivid image of Remus lying there, bleeding out onto his comforter

He doesn’t bother with trying to toss and turn, only stares up at the ceiling and tries to calm his still-singed nerves. 

In the morning, the group’s dynamic is off. Simply getting dressed without snapping at one another seems a challenge, though they exchange apologetic looks over a breakfast they’re all far too worried to eat. 

People pat the three of them reassuringly on the shoulder as they pass, and it’s clear that news of Remus’ attempted suicide has spread faster than most any news regarding the four boys before.

Severus Snape wears a rather nasty grin on his face as he passes. James almost forgets to hold Sirius back. 

None of them can focus on their lessons, and thus end up staring at one another until Professor McGonagall, looking more tired and usual, tells the three of them that they should be taking notes. She says it with a little less malice than usual, though, and they’re all thankful for that. 

They can’t find much to say to one another, and they’re all surprised when Dumbledore himself breaks their lunch’s stony silence. 

“Afternoon, boys.” He greets, clambering into the seat next to Sirius (the one that Remus usually takes). “Oh, does this table bring back memories.” 

“I’m not in trouble, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Sirius tells him glumly, as he and Dumbledore have grown quite close through the years due to Sirius’ not-so-clean record. He’s also become extremely well acquainted with the inside of the headmaster’s office. 

Dumbledore smiles at them. “I wasn’t, Mr. Black. One the contrary, in fact. I have news regarding Mr. Lupin.” 

They all give a start, and Dumbledore all at once has their attention. 

“Mr. Lupin has woken up. However,” he adds hastily, taking hold of Sirius’ robes before he can get up and leave for the Hospital Wing. “He has asked Madame Pomfrey to retain his privacy, and as such does not prefer your companionship at this time.”

They return to their seats with little protests, inwardly screaming all the while. 

The bell sounds and the Great Hall clears, save the four of them. Dumbledore waits until the last student shuffles out, and then he speaks again. 

“I’m certain I don’t need to tell you that the full moon is tonight, and I’m certain your intent was to join Mr. Lupin to do whatever it is the four of you do, but he has requested to brave this particular moon on his own. Rest assured, he will be safe, but I trust that the three of you will respect your friend’s good-intended wishes. Not to mention, you all look like you could use the rest.” 

The headmaster climbs to his feet with a fond look on his face, starting to the door. 

“We should go.” Sirius says the moment Dumbledore’s out of sight, turning back to his friends.

James shakes his head decisively, removing his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly. “We can’t. You know Remus asked us not to, and you know that if we go, he’ll know. We have to stay.” 

Hot anger ignites in Sirius’ otherwise-empty stomach. “He could hurt himself. Why aren’t you worried?” 

“Because he’s Remus.” James tells him. “He’s practical. This was the most practical idea in his head. Clearly we did something to make him believe he couldn’t come to us with this, and if we force it he’s only going to push us further away.” 

Sirius wants to argue, but he knows that James is right. 

That night, he swears he can hear Remus’ howl from the window. 

\----

Two days later Remus has yet to lift his ban on visitors, and Sirius is in such a state of obvious unrest that people have stopped approaching him for anything. 

Snape is very simply the last straw. 

He’s walking down the hall looking absolutely senile when Snape passes, sneering at him. 

“Good job, Black. Here’s hoping you won’t be lucky enough to save him next time.” 

Sirius Black has morals. He does. He clenches his fists and means to continue on, but then Snape opens his studiously large mouth again and says something more. 

“If you ask me, he deserved it, hanging out with you lot. Not to mention a poofter. _And_ a half-blood.” 

Sirius lunges at him, tackling Snape to the ground and connecting his fist with his great hooked nose. 

He doesn’t stop until somebody wrenches him away, and he doesn’t even realize it’s James until the bespectacled boy is dragging him down an empty corridor and into an equally empty classroom. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Sirius?” James demands, looking absolutely _infuriated_.

Sirius is still fuming, but the feeling quickly returns to his hands and he realizes his knuckles are stinging. Also, they’re bleeding. 

“He was talking about Moony.” Sirius says, because it’s the only defense he’s got. 

James collapses into a seat, pushing a hand through his hair. “Fantastic. _Fantastic_. You’ll be kicked off the Quidditch team for this. If you’re not expelled first.” 

“He said that Remus deserved it. For being a poofter. And a half-blood.” He tries, wiping his knuckles on his robes. 

“It doesn’t matter, Sirius.” James snaps, and at that moment Professor McGonagall storms in looking completely livid and ready to behead someone. 

“What is the meaning of this?” She demands harshly, and James stands to his feet. 

He looks unsure for a few moments, and then collects himself. “It wasn’t his fault, Professor. Snivel - -I mean, Snape, provoked him.” 

“And what exactly did he say that would warrant such a beating?” She asks the two of them, hands on her hips. She looks a good two feet taller than she actually is, and no less terrifying than always.

“He told me that Remus deserved to die because he was a . . . poofter, m’am.” He murmurs quietly, and McGonagall pauses. 

She seems to consider the literal blood on Sirius’ hands, before appearing to make a decision. “Alright, Black.” She says wearily, sinking tiredly into a seat. “No points will be taken from Gryffindor, but you will be issued detention for three months for your actions. Fighting is _never_ the answer.” But she doesn’t look so sure of what she’s saying herself.

She excuses herself after a long moment, leaving the two boys to stare at one another and regard her words, their words. Sirius wishes he felt better after beating up Snape. He doesn’t. 

\----

One week later, Remus stitches himself flawlessly back into the group. 

He just appears in the Great Hall for breakfast one morning, book in hand and looking like he never left. 

He gives them an easy good morning when they sit down, like it’s never been more normal. He glances up, however, to find them all stunned into silence. “What?” 

James opens his mouth, closes it, thinks for a minute, and then opens it again. “How are you feeling, Remus?” 

“Better.” Remus nods, picking up a piece of toast. “Certainly looking better than you lot. Have some breakfast.” 

For a fleeting moment, Sirius wonders if it was all some horrible, terrible dream. 

But when Remus reaches for the jam the sleeve of his sweater rides up, revealing a plain white bandage. _That_ isn’t a dream. 

Sirius still doesn’t feel very hungry, but he picks up a piece of toast anyways. 

\----

Two weeks later, nothing changes. 

Remus becomes the same old Remus, and people stop staring at him in pity when he passes. He becomes the quiet one who keeps James and Sirius in check once more, but it doesn’t quite feel the same as it once did. 

Finally, it’s Sirius who breaks. 

They’re sitting in their room, Remus reading quietly in bed, when Sirius throws his quill across the room. 

It doesn’t quite have the effect he was hoping for. 

“How could you just sit there?” He demands, and Remus looks up innocently enough. 

“Sorry?” 

James is looking at him with a stern “don’t do it” sort of look, but Sirius won’t stop. Can’t stop. “Three weeks ago you tried to off yourself and I want to know why.” 

Remus looks between the three of them, brown eyes completely emotionless.

Then he marks his book, stands, and walks out of the room. 

“Don’t,” James warns, but Sirius is already after him. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sirius demands when he catches Remus halfway out the portrait hole, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Talk to us. Tell us what’s wrong.” 

Remus doesn’t turn to look at him, only shakes his head softly and tries to maneuver his way out of Sirius’ grip. “Let go of me,” he demands, but his voice is broken and small.

Sirius refuses to do so. “Not until you tell me why. It’s been three weeks, and nobody’s talked about it, and I think we should. So talk.” 

He really doesn’t want to push, but there’s no other way to get through to Remus. Even now, he doesn’t think it’s worked. 

But then Remus opens his mouth, and words spill out like howls during the full moon. 

“It just got to be too much, okay? Everyone was happy so I thought, ‘okay. I’ll just be happy because everyone else is happy and that’s all I’ll need.’ But that’s not how it works, Sirius. That’s not how it works and I don’t know how it works because I can’t remember the last time I was really happy and I couldn’t make a patronus, you know? I had to practice at night, when you were all in bed, because I couldn’t find a memory that made me happy enough to actually do one and I didn’t want to admit it to you. That’s why I did it, and even that didn’t work, and it was like this big thing that was growing inside me until it just exploded, and took me with it.” 

Sirius is stunned into silence, and his grips loosens just enough for Remus to duck out and disappear into the darkness of the hallway. 

\----

It takes two hours for Sirius to find him, but he does. 

Remus is curled up at the base of the Whomping Willow, just out of the branche’s reach. When Sirius makes it there there’s barely enough room in the safe zone for the both of them, and as a result their legs and shoulders touch after Sirius finally settles in. 

“Have you really never been happy before?” Sirius asks after a long silence, and Remus gives a shaky sigh. 

“I’ve been happy.” He murmurs lightly, picking at an invisible piece of lint on his jumper. “They’re just far and few between.”

“What did you use for your Patronus?” Sirius replies. “When you finally did it that day.”

Remus just barely smiles at the memory. Small victories. “When I walked into the dorm room, that one day, and the three of you told me you had this ‘great idea’ to become Animagi to help me through the moons.” He pauses, a smile still on his face. “Because I knew, in that moment, that you cared about me enough to go through all of that for one lousy night a month. I knew that you were really my friends. I’d never had friends, before you lot.” He looks down at the grassy ground beneath them, listening intently to the angry swish of the Willow’s branches. 

“Hey. Look at me.” Sirius orders in a gentle voice, and when Remus finally glances up his eyes are teary. Sirius can’t help but feel his start to sting a little with moisture, too. 

They both laugh for a moment, because boys aren’t supposed to cry. “Look at us. Couple of saps,” Sirius tries to joke, and Remus laugh-sobs against the sleeve of his jumper. 

“You’ve gone soft.” Remus contributes, and it’s the first _real_ attempt at joking Sirius’ heard from him in a _long_ time. 

And then, without knowing entirely what he was doing, Sirius leans forward and presses his lips to Remus’. 

The Willow bangs on the ground beneath them and after a moment Remus’ hand tangles in his hair and they’re really _kissing,_ both of their eyes closed and their noses hitting each other and it’s awkward and bad but also utterly perfect. 

Remus isn’t fixed. Sirius knows that. But they’re on their way. And that’s enough for him. 

And when they walk back to the Common Room hand in hand, Sirius thinks it just might be alright.


End file.
